


Role

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Barest Hint of smut, I just really wanted to write Harry again, M/M, Memory issues Harry Hart, Post Kingsman 2, forgive me for being rusty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: After everything, falling into the pattern of work was far easier than reclaiming his life.Work, after all, was a clearly defined role, with patterns to it.Just another "Harry Hart" has holes in his memory fic, because it's a trope that I love.





	Role

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really back, I just got really inspired watching Mamma Mia 2 and needed to write Harry again. Before going back into work induced isolation I'll try to get through my AO3 messages, I've got comments stacked up.

After everything, falling into the pattern of work was far easier than reclaiming his life.

Work, after all, was a clearly defined role, with patterns to it. When there was a mission there would be a brief, a costume, instructions to be followed. A voice in his ear directing him as to where to go, what he could expect around each turn. There were skills to be learned, but his body remembered where his mind sometimes did not. At Poppy’s it’d been most apparent. React on instinct, and everything would be okay. It helped to have a partner, but even on his recent solo missions his instincts had been enough to easily overcome whatever obstacle he faced. Once his vision had adjusted it’s depth perception for outside of his padded cell it was merely routine to take a life, or protect one.

When he wasn’t on a mission he was at their temporary headquarters, with a staff cobbled together from sister agencies and those that had been on leave during the bombings. No one really knew him aside from Merlin and Eggsy, so it was simple enough to stay in the role of the secretive and deadly agent that no one wanted to cross. They stayed at arm’s length, and it worked.

Far more difficult was figuring out what his life was outside work. Once the dust had settled Merlin had sent him to live in one of the Kingsman safe houses. One of the many that had been off of the record, though Harry still did a sweep of the building every time he returned. Again, more from instinct than anything, but he’d done it long enough that it was becoming a habit, and perhaps that was who he was. The man that checked his house before he could relax, a whisky in one hand, staring at a wall of butterflies that he knew everything about but felt nothing toward.

Finally he set his tumbler down on the table, the crystal chiming softly in protest, and picked up the tablet waiting for him instead. He had forgotten to plug it in, which seemed unusual, like it was something that he should have done, and he filed it away as something to remember. From what he had gathered he was a person that was prepared for everything, having charged electronic devices fit into that perception. He would not forget again. 

He scanned his thumb, then his eye, and finally typed in his 12 digit password containing capital letters and undercase, a symbol, a number, and a hieroglyphic that had to be pulled up with a special combination of toggles, and settled into reading one of his earlier case files. 

This one was in the early 2000s, which he preferred to the older ones. These sometimes contained audio files, and he could try his lines out himself, sounding them out until the intonation was perfect, the emphasis just so. He knew from these that the sometimes flashes of wry humor he had were part of Harry, as if the man he was before was trying to come forth. Now he tried to always say those slightly off-kilter lines that came to his head, gauging carefully how Eggsy and Merlin reacted. Merlin often quipped back, quickly enough that it seemed to be familiar, and then he was right back to the task at hand. Eggsy however took a bit longer. First a grin would tug at one corner of his mouth, and when he seemed to be properly delighted he’d quip back as well, though there was almost always a teasing note in his voice, like he expected more. Sometimes it was like the exercises Harry did, and his voice knew what to say next, his vocal cords contracting and expanding to carry on the conversation. Other times he simply had nothing to say and the silence would become awkward. Normally it was Eggsy that turned away first, though it was hard to figure out why. Sometimes he looked annoyed, others frustrated, yet the worst was when the spark simply died in his eye, and then business went on as usual.

“Just when I thought your driving couldn’t get any worse.”

If he closed his eyes he could almost picture this one, he’d pressed the RAZR to his ear with his shoulder, spinning the wheel to the left to keep up with the Lotus Elise ahead of him, and scoffed. “I am rather good at this, and you know it. Besides, it’s my favorite time of the day, driving you.”

There was a small pause and then a groan. “I see someone finally watched Love, Actually.”

“I still cannot figure out why you are so obsessed with that film. It was fine, but not something I want to rewatch every weekend.”

“This is why the other agents complain that you’re uncultured swine. Now see if you can get them to turn left up ahead, Gawain is in position, they won’t make it more than a block.”

Harry tapped the screen to pause it, reaching over to grab a pad of paper and the pen waiting beside it. It was labeled as a shopping list, a few mundane items listed on it for show, but about three quarters of the way down was were the real notes began. He jotted down Love Actually - movie(?) before glancing over his other notes. He’d have to venture out on his next day off, there was a book called Harry Potter he needed to pick up and the large chain bookstore, the one where no one was ever likely to remember him, might have the movie on DVD as well, or point him in the right direction. Merlin seemed to like when he brought up something older in a conversation, and no one had to know that he had just seen in that week.

It was late enough that he could go to bed, though without taking pills it would likely be a while before he actually slept. He had disposed of the pills more than a week ago, evidenced by the exhaustion etched into every line of his face. They were a crutch though, and something he could control. They had needed to go.

\--------

Harry despised dreams that were realistic. The good ones were when he was murdering someone, or seducing them, or simply deactivating a bomb. Some of them he remembered specific enough details that he could look them up in the case files. Many of them checked out, and he would then know they were memories, possibly even fully intact. Others he couldn’t locate at all, and so they were likely just a dream. It made it hard to determine what was real, and he knew he couldn’t ask Merlin about too many before the other man became suspicious.

Again, those were the easy ones. The difficult sort was like the one he just woke up from, his hands grasping at the sheets, face buried into his pillow as he rubbed against the bed wantonly. Of course, in his dream he wasn’t alone, there was a body pressed against his back, hips thrusting in a way that wasn’t quite enough to send him over the edge, fingers laced with his own. Then there was that voice against his ear, one he knew possibly better than his own at this point, but with a huskiness to it that he never heard while they were working together.

“I fucking hate when Merlin sends you on missions like that. I ain’t convinced he don’t do it just to piss me off.”

“Actually,” Harry gasped out, and as he remembered he pushed the words out of his mouth again, trying to capture the hoarseness in his throat, the slight whine as Eggsy rolled his hips just a bit harder than he had been, “I requested this one. You’re always so determined to stake your claim again that it’s well worth a few minutes with someone else.”

He’d revelled in the way Eggsy had tensed, his hands almost painful around his own, and then he’d relaxed slowly, resuming the thrusting he probably hadn’t consciously stopped. “There’s better ways to get my attention, Harry.” Eggsy nipped his ear, a sharp jolt that went straight to his groin. “Sounds to me like you was fucking greedy. Wanted more than bloody attention. Maybe you wanted punished.”

Naturally that was when he had woken up, and those were the dreams he did not quite know what to do with. There was no simple way to look them up like there was with the case files, and he was not about to ask around. Merlin might even know if it was real or not, and the only one that knew for certain was the other party involved. Harry remembered enough to know he could not go up to his coworker, a coworker decades younger than him and presumably straight as he’d been seen recently with a princess, and simply ask if they had been intimate based on a dream. “Excuse me but I had a dream where we were having sex, and you were rather gorgeous when you came. Was that a memory or did I just have a lovely fantasy about you?”

He was not sure what he would do with the answer, and he preferred not to deal with a disappointment.

\------

“I’m sorry for this, Harry.”

Merlin flicked his finger across the screen, sending the image over to the monitor. “I know I swore I’d never send you back to Bristol, but you know what our situation is. None of the candidates are ready for this level of difficulty, and Eggsy can’t get back here until the wee hours, and even if I sent him directly there he’d be too late. Tequila’s in Ireland, I can’t avoid this.”

The man sounded honestly distressed, so Harry frowned and nodded solemnly, brain racing. Nothing. Perhaps on the way to Bristol he could look through his past missions, figure out if he knew what Merlin was talking about, but by the sounds of it maybe it was better if he could not remember. At least until it was over.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he pointed out. “I know this is not ideal, but our back is against the wall until the candidates finish their training. We certainly do not want to condense it more than it has been. I can handle this, what are we looking at?”

Merlin almost looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, redirecting his attention back to the screen. 

“There’s a rally going on in a few hours, across the road from the Ashton Gate Stadium. Our information points to it being targeted by a white supremacy group, but they have someone with a dash of intelligence in their group. We’ve cracked part of their code, enough to figure out the date and time of this probable attack, but we need an identity, any identity really, to solve the rest. Someone taken alive would be ideal, but if we can stop the attack and get a positive ID I’ll be thrilled.”

“Let me see if I have this correct. You are sending me to a crowded rally without even a picture of our suspect?”

“It’s not the worst mission I’ve ever given you,” Merlin shrugged. “I’ve got images for you to review on your way of known white supremacists in the area, but mostly you’re going to be looking for someone that feels off. Someone out of place, or trying too hard to blend in. We’ll be scanning with CCTV cameras in the area, so we’ll try to help you out, but you can see why I need an expert out there.”

“Leave it to me,” Harry replied, though he couldn’t quite force a smile onto his face. Hopefully Merlin would just chalk it up to sending him to Bristol, and he wouldn’t even consider how terrified Harry was that he had no idea what he was doing.

\-------

On the plane ride there was plenty of time to review the materials, and for the last few minutes Harry simply closed his eyes, steadying himself with his breathing. It was time to become Galahad, a name Eggsy had insisted he take back, and leaving behind Harry was like taking off pajamas and donning armour instead. 

Most of his missions since he’d been back went this way. He gave himself over to Galahad, and the role came to life. He checked and cleaned his weapons automatically, knew without a second thought how far to raise his arm for a kill shot to the head on a man that was 6’3” or a woman 5’5”, how much he’d have to compensate for movement. Everything was normal and going to plan, until it was not.

The plane had landed and he’d been shuffled into a Kingsman taxi. It wasn’t until they were in the city proper that the guilt and anxiety began to gnaw it’s way through his body, the enemy coming from within the armour, so there was no way to stop it. He’d passed this street before, and the memory demanded to return, unapologetic as it surfaced.

A straightforward assassination plot, and he was meant to stop it. The woman that he was after went about her business in a simple manner, choosing such obvious methods that they were almost overlooked as everyone trying to catch her tried to think five steps ahead. He’d been the one to figure it out, the one to catch her in the act as she strode into the gala acting as if she owned the place, handgun already drawn as she moved through the room.

She’d looked him dead in the eye from across the room as he pushed her mark in a corridor, into safety, and still pulled the trigger, killing the man’s eight year old daughter instead. Just because she could. Just because she’d known her time was up. Then she’d kept going. Four more dead before he could get a clear shot, but she’d kept firing instead of falling, each shot a clean kill instead of his bullets that just seemed to go a hair too wide, wounding instead of destroying.

Nine others dead before her finger stopped twitching.

When he looked down there was a pair of shaking hands, and it took a long moment to make the connection that they were his. This, this was why he should not be in Bristol.

It took even longer to register there was a voice in his ear, Merlin’s voice low and soothing. Telling him he could turn back, that they would try to pass it on to the local authorities. But they weren’t trained for quite these situations, and it was that offer of escape, the fact that he could pawn his responsibilities on someone else that helped to draw him back together. “I can do this. I just need a moment.”

His voice was unexpectedly raw, but after a long moment Merlin replied. “Affirmative.”

\------

In the end, he’d been successful. Mostly. It’d definitely been sloppy, but for some reason Merlin wasn’t berating him, even though he knew he deserved it. He’d been forced to make a kill instead of capturing or even tagging the culprit, so there was little in the way of more information. Worse, he’d been forced to flee without being able to even go through the man’s pockets. All they had were a few shots of the man’s face, with more likely to show up on the news, hopefully with a name to ensure they’d identified the right person. 

The bare minimum, that was what he had been reduced to. Barely even passable.

In the end he was stumbling off of the plane, Galahad peeling off in layers even though he wasn’t safe yet, he wasn’t home. He was exposed and vulnerable, and there was no way that Merlin hadn’t noticed something. If they took Galahad from him he would have nothing left, so he desperately fought to keep control. 

His feet carried him down the corridor to the ready room. It made sense to have an area for the agents, which contained a few changes of clothing for whatever situation they were about to go into or coming out of. Far too often agents were drenched in blood or other fluids, and it was a nice place to refresh. He stripped off his suit in the attached restroom, absentmindedly folding the clothing before placing it in the laundry chute. There was a shower, and he turned the water on hot. Hot enough to be uncomfortable but not to the point of actual pain. Once dried he donned another suit, finding solace in simply pushing the buttons through the slits in the fabric designed for them.

There was no telling how long he’d taken, he’d been on autopilot but also with a heaviness to his movements, but when he emerged Eggsy was sitting at the table, feet propped up on one of the extra chairs. A couple of mugs were on the table, though no steam rose from the tea waiting for him. Still, Harry sat and took a drink gratefully. It was perfect, just the precise amount of milk, a half spoon of sugar to knock off any lingering bitterness but not to actually sweeten.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, the words themselves almost a reflex.

“Merlin said you was still here,” Eggsy explained, setting down his phone and leaning forward to grab his own cup. “Said your mission was a bitch, figured we could both use a bloody drink.”

“Yet you decided on tea?”

Eggsy nodded. “After today I’m too fucking tired to drink.”

Harry raised his mug slightly in a salute, taking another long drink of his tea. It was still warm, but barely, so Eggsy must have been waiting on him a while. “I apologize for keeping you. If I had known I would have hurried.”

“Nah, I get it. I showered and changed before I left Glasgow.” He left his cup on the table, slouching down in his chair, eyebrows furrowed. “Glasgow was a shitshow. If you’d been there it’d have been a piece of cake, but Merlin can’t afford to have us all gone. Sounds like it’s a good thing you was here, yeah?”

“Bristol was a,” here Harry paused, letting the word linger in his mouth, though it still didn’t feel familiar, “shitshow too. I am certain you would have done well there, though.”

“Would have done better if we was there together. Someday these damn candidates are going to fucking graduate, then we can go out there again.” Eggsy reached out to mess with his cup, never bothering to look up, to meet his eye. “We was great together.”

There was such an ache in him that it almost felt as though there was something he was supposed to say, but Harry wasn’t positive what it was, and he was too exhausted to work through everything to try to find the answer. He knew they worked well together though, they had proven that at Poppy’s and a few times since, when they absolutely had to have multiple agents on a mission, so he nodded.

After a moment it was clear that the conversation was stagnant, and he cleared his throat. “Were you were successful at Glasgow? Overall?”

Eggsy’s chuckle had nothing humourous to it. “Overall, that’s a good way to put it.” He made a show of glancing at his watch. “Shit, I’ve got to go, yeah? Just needed to check in with you.”

Needed to, like it was a chore. That made more sense than the other things he’d been thinking, the logic of it chasing away the remnants of the dreams he had. He worked a smile onto his face, something that he would always do for Eggsy, no matter how exhausted he was. “I’m fine, thank you. Take care of yourself Eggsy.”

He continued to sit there long after what remained of their tea went cold, though his cup disappeared eventually. Eggsy’s would be far too sweet, with no milk at all. Harry could not be sure where that information came from, but as he sat there, his mind going blank, he was sure of it. 

Finally he succumbed, leaning across the table to reach the other cup, taking a small sip. His mouth flooded with sugar, overwhelming his senses as the cup slipped from his hand. He watched the remaining liquid puddle out of the cup from where it laid on it’s side, a chip out of the lip of it.

\-------

Ginger Ale was back.

Her visits were a regular occurrence, though the frequency and duration varied with her Statesmen obligations. She was a familiar presence, which was comforting in and of itself.

Officially she was there to help get their systems back up and in order, and to assist as an extra pair of highly skilled hands. Unofficially Harry was fairly certain she was there to gossip with Merlin. It was far too likely that they shared tales of the idiotic agents they had to put up with, swapping stories to try to one up each other on ridiculous situations.

Somewhere during her trip she always found time to wrangle a dinner invitation with him. They both knew she was checking in on him, but he had found that he enjoyed their time together. Plus she had a list a mile long of delicious restaurants to try, and everything was put on a company card. 

Still, he had barely touched his whisky, and the food might as well have been ash for all that he knew. More of it had migrated around his plate than had made its way into his mouth, and finally Ginger sighed before reaching over and rescuing the lobster tail off of his plate. “If you’re not going to appreciate this, I will,” she warned. After she’d taken a bite and been met with no resistance she narrowed her eyes at him, and Harry remembered why familiar people were dangerous. They saw too much.

“So, what’s going on with my favorite lepidopterist?”

It was an easy opening, but Harry was tired. Bristol had drained him last week, and he was not ready for a fight. He was ready to just surrender, it was all becoming too much.

“I’m not sure what’s real anymore.”

The look of confusion on her face made it plain enough that she had not been expecting an actual answer, and it took her a moment to process. “Like, you don’t know if this conversation is really happening?”

“No, this is real, I know that.” He reached down, pinching a bit of skin on his hand. “See? I’m awake.”

Now he took a gulp of his whisky, needing every scrap of courage available. “But I do have dreams. Things in the past. I just cannot tell which ones are real.”

“Why do you think any of them are real?”

“I know some of them are. I’ve found a few case files that prove at least some of it is real. However, there are others that don’t seem to match anything whatsoever.”

“Hm, but you know, we don’t always put everything in the files. And some are so heavily redacted you may never find anything of use. Why don’t you tell me about your latest one? Maybe I can take a look.”

Eggsy’s head had tilted back as he laughed, adam’s apple bobbing, and Harry had caused that. When he had control again Eggsy had given him a glare with very little heat behind it. “We’re supposed to be on a fucking stakeout. People depend on us.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here then. I can keep one eye on the situation and still have attention to spare.”

He recognized the gleam in Eggsy’s eye as soon as his words registered. “Oh yeah?”

Eggsy’s tone was deceptively casual. “You keep watch then, I’ve thought of something else to occupy me.”

Several minutes later Harry was cursing the seat belt he’d kept on after they’d parked. Now it kept his hips firmly in place, so he couldn’t thrust into Eggsy’s mouth the way that he wanted to, and Eggsy was being a tease. He told him as much with what words he managed to string together.

He blinked, clearing away the memory as he looked toward Ginger without meeting her gaze. “I think I know where the last one came from, but there was one I am still struggling with from earlier this week. I think I was in Prague.” He laid out the details that he had, and she nodded along, waiting until he was done before speaking.

“I’ll look into this Harry, but only if you answer one thing for me. Why are you telling this to me? Why not Merlin?”

“It would just be one more thing for him to worry about. An agent missing half of his memory is one thing, but I am needed on missions. He has to be able to send me out, and if he is worried that I do not have the expertise he might not be willing to take risks that we have to take.”

“That’s a decent point, and I know that we shouldn’t be trying to force more memories to come back. We can’t guarantee what that will do to you, memory is still a work in progress.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, then folded her hands together. “But I want you to know that they think you’ve stopped remembering at all. They think the Harry that they’ve known for the past several months is all that they’ve recovered. All they’ll ever recover. I know they’re relieved to have you back, but what if they knew they could have more?”

“I’m not holding anything back, I’m sure my missions will reflect that, even if I don’t spell it out.”

“I’m not talking about the missions, Harry. I’m talking about your best friend, who is working double and triple shifts to try to keep Kingsman afloat; Merlin needs someone who can be there for him when it’s not strictly work related. 

“I’m talking about Eggsy too, who so far as I can tell has never seen you as just another agent. He respects you, Harry, and he’s been lost without you fully here. Merlin probably hasn’t told you this, but he’s taking risks. Not good risks. Not even stupid risks. Merlin didn’t think he was going to be able to extract him from Glasgow. We had to divert a team en route to help Tequila with chasing down the scattered remnants of a drug ring. Four men died. Four Statesmen men that is, the casualties on their side were far higher.

“They need you back, but more than that they need hope. I think you need to talk to them.”

Her words were hooks, tearing into his skin and digging in with their barbs. His voice came out hoarse as he tried desperately to push the information away that she had just given to him. “I still don’t know what parts of it are real. I’ll still just be a burden.”

“If it were me, I’d want to know.”

\-------

“You need a break.”

Merlin turned to glower at him, and now that he knew, Harry couldn’t miss it. He wasn’t even sure how he’d overlooked it before. Merlin wasn’t tired, he was exhausted. They were small signs, but they were easy to read, now that Harry was actually looking, and he couldn’t ignore them any longer.

Instead, he held up the case he’d brought with him. “I don’t remember this one, but I know you made me watch it, and I know you liked it. It’s two hours and twenty five minutes long, surely you can spare that much time.”

It was a bit of a gamble. This was one of the dreams he couldn’t actually confirm was real, but Merlin was staring at him, his eyes searching, and there was a bit of fragility in the air. “Give me a minute to wrap this up, then we can steal the conference room and use the projector.”

Harry smiled and set Love, Actually down on the desk. “I’ll go round up a couple beers. Maybe a snack?”

“Check and see if they’ve left me any of the millionaire shortbreads Agatha brought in.” Merlin had already turned back to his computer but Harry could see that a smidgen of tension had eased out of his shoulders. Maybe he could do this after all.

\-------

Merlin was far easier to track down than Eggsy, and Harry let that excuse last for over a week. Instead he focused on the man behind the mirror, purposefully tracking down the other man and forcing him to take lunch breaks or to finish off the evening with a nightcap. Those interventions had a dual motive, as the trick to getting Merlin to take a break was simply getting him away from his computer in the first place. There was a 50-50 chance of Merlin going back to work if he bothered him late enough, which meant there was a 50% chance of him actually getting some sleep that night. Any sleep was more than none.

The topic of Eggsy was far more difficult to approach, because it was the one set of potential memories he was the most uncertain of. In the end he resorted to what he did best, reading through old files, until he finally stumbled across the footage of Eggsy’s recruitment. Then it was simply an invitation for Eggsy to come watch a film on a day when they were both off (a Tuesday, they were rarely called in on a Tuesday, and he’d been called in the previous two. Criminals surely didn’t have it in them to cause problems on a Tuesday three weeks in a row). 

It had seemed simple enough to arrange, but their plans had been for seven on the dot, and it was five til eight. Harry adjusted his sweater, checked the BluRay player, and tried not to glance at the clock. The case sitting next to the TV was brand new, nothing would be worse than borrowing the film from the library only to have it be scratched at a crucial moment, but it didn’t seem as though it would matter in the long run.

It was four after the hour when his doorbell rang, followed by a frantic knocking at the door before he could do more than stand.

“I’m fucking sorry, Harry.” The words were out before the door was barely cracked, and Harry simply shook his head.

“I’m glad you could make it. Traffic?”

“Called in. Third bloody Tuesday this month. Seems like Wednesday’s the new weekend for arms dealers, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, the words unimportant as he reached up to turn Eggsy’s chin so his face would catch the light in the foyer at a better angle. “Have you put ice on that yet?”

“That’s after the damn ice. Merlin’s going to make me practice my makeup skills or so he says.” Eggsy moved into the house, putting his umbrella down and shrugging off his coat, which Harry took from him to hang up.

“A few lessons in cover-up won’t go amiss, and I’ve found it useful once or twice. The key is getting the right foundation for you, though Percival used to swear one of his powders did all the work for him.”

“This ain’t what I signed up for,” Eggsy groused, but he didn’t seem all that upset by it. “Still, sorry I’m late.”

“It really did throw off the whole party. But you do look as though you came straight here.”

“Yeah, just grabbed the ice and booked it. Forgot to charge my phone and I didn’t want to call Merlin on the glasses to let you know.”

“Then why not go clean up? You can borrow whatever you need.” He didn’t wait for a reply before charging on. “Have you eaten yet? I can see about something to eat while you shower.”

There was a bemused smile on Eggsy’s face, but he nodded. “Alright, a shower sounds bloody fantastic.”

\------

Harry never cooked this many eggs. Eight was a bit excessive but they were scrambling nicely. He’d scraped a quarter of them onto a plate when they were nice and soft, but the rest were still cooking, though he had decided to sprinkle them with a bit of garlic powder and ground red pepper. There was a glass of milk sitting out on the counter, he’d poured it first out of apparently habit, even though he never drank milk on it’s own. 

The toaster spit out it’s toast, and while his own was sitting on the plate next to his eggs, plain with a dollop of orange marmalade beside it to add as he ate, this toast he began to carefully smear with butter. It was almost soft by the time he was through, which just seemed wrong, but he cut it into triangles nonetheless, arranging the four halves around the second plate before heaping the now hard scrambled eggs into the middle.

Plates done he picked them up, turning to carry them into the den, their forks and napkins already waiting for him, only to find Eggsy walking down the hall, hair still dripping slightly. He really had helped himself, but the shirt he had borrowed wasn’t quite as loose as Harry had expected it to be. The plaid pajama bottoms were puddling around his feet, just a bit too long, and it was unexpectedly familiar and comforting.

“There is a glass of milk for you on the counter, if you’d like it.”

Eggsy nodded, for once not speaking, brushing past him to go into the kitchen. He could hear the tap running as he carried the food into the den, taking a seat on the couch.

“Got you some water,” Eggsy announced as he entered, setting their respective glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch before sitting and reaching forward for his plate.

“Thank you, I completely forgot to get a drink.”

Next to him Eggsy hummed with delight. “Shit fuck, I forgot how bloody perfect your eggs are. And the milk isn’t too damn cold.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying them.” And he was, he was rather pleased in fact. But it was a fact he covered by picking up the remote off of the arm rest, pressing play and sinking into the familiar music of a movie old enough that he legitimately remembered it.

\------

“Still can’t believe all of this was so you could finally make me watch My Fair Lady.”

Good, then it was not a repeat of something they had done before The Church. Harry turned away from the credits rolling across the screen to look at Eggsy on the far side of the couch. He had settled in as the movie had played, and now he was lounging with his legs half under him, his bare feet on the cushion between them.

“A Kingsman should be cultured, at least on the outside. I was just trying to help.”

The room lapsed into relative silence again, just the noise of the credits filling the air. It was just reaching the point of unbearably awkward when Eggsy broke the silence. “Merlin said you was acting a bit strange. Wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not.”

“I doubt he needs to worry, though I suspect that worrying is why he lost his hair in the first place.”

His attempt to lighten the mood fell flat, and after a moment he sighed, wishing he’d gotten up a while ago to pour himself a whisky. Or seven.

“I suspect that I am remembering things, but it’s hard to be certain, and often times it seems to only be halfway. Like how to make eggs. Your eggs actually, because they are nothing I want to consume. What I cannot seem to remember is why I know how to make them. I assume I made them for you before, but was it like tonight, when you had just gotten in from a mission and needed something to eat? Or was it before you left in the mornings?”

He had no idea how else to put the idea out there, and already he regretted it. He could not take it back, and if he was wrong there was no coming back from it.

“Both, actually.”

Eggsy’s voice was unusually quiet, but he hung on every word. “Well, it was more like mid-afternoon most days, and normally it was before both of us headed in for our briefings.”

“I cannot remember most of it, but I am fairly certain it was not for fuel efficiency.”

“Yeah, nothing like that.”

Now that the truth was out there his mind was racing, trying to piece together what it all meant if those dreams were true, if his life had been that full before everything had went to pieces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracked, something he thought he’d left behind with adolescence, but he managed to get the words out.

“I wanted to. Harry, I really fucking wanted to. The doctors said it could push you away if you found out in the wrong way. We’d had some arguments before, you’d get it in your head you was too old or I was too young. So, if that was all you remembered I could’ve lost you completely. I just got you back, I wasn’t about to fucking lose you again.”

A snippet of a dream came back to him, one of the ones he tried not to think about, because it had felt wrong to think about sex with Eggsy when there was nothing confirmed between them. “I think some of those arguments may have been provoked,” he said slowly, feeling out the words, but they rang true. “I believe you wanted the make up sex.”

That familiar delighted grin stretched across Eggsy’s features, but the look in his eye had a bit of a different gleam to it. “So that’s what you remembered. It was pretty fucking unforgettable.”

He could not resist smiling back, Eggsy was infectious, but then the gravity of the situation brought him back. He took a deep breath. “I’m serious when I tell you, I do not remember the majority of what happened before the incident. However, everything I remember, everything I come across, suggests that we were good together. I want to experience that, but I need help remembering, and I know that’s asking a lot.”

“I’d do anything for you, Harry.”

What surprised him the most was the fact that there was no hesitation before Eggsy answered, and he just kept going.

“I’ll do my fucking best, but even if you don’t remember a damn thing from before, we can make new ones.”

\-------

Merlin groaned. “I swear if the two of you don’t stop I’m throwing this headset across the room, and you’ll be on your own.”

“Are you quite certain that is the threat you want to go with? Leaving us alone, unsupervised, on a secure channel?”

“I think it’s bloody aces.”

“You two are worse than teenagers. Lancelot, you’re supposed to be stopping a train speeding toward imminent doom. Galahad, you’re meant to be assassinating the leader of a drug cartel. Can’t we just focus on those?”

“I suppose we could, but personally I work optimally when I know just what it is I have to look forward to when we get home.”

“Don’t forget the incentive packages.”

The tone of Eggsy’s voice went straight to his groin, and it was only Merlin’s voice that kept his mind on the mission at hand.

“Just stop. Please. I’m begging you. I’ll get put you on your own secure channel as soon as your missions are over with, but Eggsy, you’re going to have to jump off that helicopter in just over a minute and Harry, you’ve got another guard approaching on your right. They’ll round the corner in 15 seconds at this pace. Lord, I miss the days when Galahad couldn’t remember shit. He got so much done.”

Harry waited, counting silently and then slamming his elbow up just as the guard rounded the corner. Windpipe crushed, he caught the man and pulled him into the shadows, dropping him silently before daring to speak again.

“Why bother, Merlin? We all know you missed this. Maybe if you’re so jealous you should join us?”

There was spluttering on the other end, as well as chortling from Eggsy, followed by a heavy thump as he landed on the roof of the train.

“Galahad, second floor, four o’clock. Also, you’re both insufferable children. Just for that, you’re finding your own ways home.”


End file.
